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<title>And death i think is no parenthesis. by slowlimbs</title>
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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27454285">And death i think is no parenthesis.</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/slowlimbs/pseuds/slowlimbs'>slowlimbs</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>IT (Movies - Muschietti)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Drabbles, First Kiss, M/M</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-11-08</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-11-08</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 16:46:42</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>413</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27454285</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/slowlimbs/pseuds/slowlimbs</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Eddie is brave, and kisses Richie first.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Eddie Kaspbrak/Richie Tozier</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>28</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>And death i think is no parenthesis.</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">
      <li>For <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/liminalweirdo/gifts">liminalweirdo</a>.</li>



    </ul></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p><span>Richie is Eddie’s first kiss. They are fourteen, and It is news of last summer. This summer is blackberries picked from thorny bushes, beestings and no bullshit. They are laughing while Eddie picks a stinger out of Richie’s palm, open but hidden in the Barrens, and it’s sunset, and they feel like they’re grown up already. Like the weight of the world is both settled on and lifted from their shoulders, and Richie’s tongue is purple from berries, and tomorrow he will call Eddie and complain of a stomach ache. And </span>Eddie will recommend indigestion pills.</p><p>
  <span>Today, though, they both feel good. Decidedly good. Eddie has had a growth spurt, and there are stretch marks on his legs, and Richie has had to be the center of attention by gaining at least six inches on him. His own stripes are on his calves, but he doesn’t wear shorts, so no one sees. Richies fingers are just this side of uncomfortably sticky when he runs them down Eddie's skin. And Eddie's stomach flutters. And Richie looks up at him through coke bottle glasses and Eddie's chest flutters. He won’t, later, remember what they’re talking about (how much they’d both enjoyed the Neverending Story, how Eddie had cried when the horse died and how Richie will never admit to crying about it because he’s not a </span>
  <em>
    <span>girl</span>
  </em>
  <span>), but he will remember the way Richie had looked when he’d finally dug the stinger out and poured disinfectant on the tiny wound and double checked that Richie was absolutely sure he wasn’t allergic.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He will remember the way Richie flushes at the sudden proximity, the way his smile trembles on his face, the way his eyes dart away from Eddie’s like he’s seen a nudie magazine. In the moment he half remembers something a year or so old. Henry Bowers calling them fags. The way Eddie had felt about it and the way Richie had reacted and—.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Maybe there’s more truth to it than either of them can admit in words, so he thinks fuck it. He thinks, I’ve been done with Bullshit and lying for a year, and he leans forward to press their lips together because they are fourteen years old and he knows what love is. Because fourteen may as well be forty, as far as he’s concerned.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And the kiss is dry and blackberry sweet and Eddie thinks he will remember it for the rest of his life.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He hopes he will, anyway.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
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